


Not Only a Prime

by Forgotten_Logic



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Big pregnant belly rubs, Half a birth scene, Hand Feeding, I didn't really want to write it, I love you Optimus but I had to, M/M, Mechpreg, lets be honest here, please don't read this. it's so bad., sue my lazy butt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:30:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8010175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forgotten_Logic/pseuds/Forgotten_Logic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Optimus and Ratchet have only been bonded a short time - what's gonna happen next?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Repost. I did change a few things story and grammatically wise.

(POV Optimus)

I just stood there at the screen, my optics tired and strained. Only one thought has been running through my helm, how can I raise this sparkling? I don't know how to tell Ratchet that I'm carrying but I guess that he'll find out soon enough.

I want the little one, but I can't help but feel that this world would be just a bad place to raise a sparkling. I feel shameful knowing that I'm going to be bringing a sparkling into this world. Aside from that, how would Ratchet react? I contemplated all the possible outcomes and the outcomes don't make me feel any better.

Light steps came from the edge of the room, I typed at the computer, pretending to be busy. "Optimus?" The femme bot’s voice was quiet. "What are you doing up? It's not even 2 in the morning." Her steps turned to rolls, coming up just behind me. My breath hitched for a moment, I could see her concern in my peripheral. "Optimus?" She rolled closer, I continued to type, attempting to continue the ruse.

"Orion." I allowed myself to stop, feeling the femme bot’s servo land on my arm. Turning my helm, I could see her purple optics shine. "Nightblade, I could ask you the same." My response quiet, her optics narrowed. "I was in recharge, but you haven't been for the last four solar cycles." Her voice laced with concern, "Are okay? You can tell me anything, you know."

I want to tell her, I thought, but what will she think? I sighed and turned to her, her optics dimmed with the lower light. "Can you keep a secret?" She nodded her helm, leaning closer. "I believe myself to be carrying." She leaned back to where she was before, a small smile rested on her faceplate. "One sec." She whispered, rolling quietly towards the medical bay, the feeling of betrayal came through my veins.

But she came back alone with only an Energon cube that glowed a different color than usual, a dark magenta. "Have this, and get some recharge. I won't allow you to be stressed like this." I wearily took the cube from her servo. "What's in it?" I whispered. "It just has some more minerals than usual, it’s good for you." I took a sip, repulsed by the taste. "It is medicine. The faster you drink it, the faster you don't have to deal with it. Sorry." I did what I was asked, drinking the foul substance.

"Have you told Ratchet?" I choked on the substance and attempted to reclaim my composure, her optics stared at me. "I'll take that as a no, huh?" I finished the rest of the cube, only to nod at her question. "Are you gonna tell?" I placed down the empty cube next to the keyboard, sighing at her. She nodded, holding out her servo for the empty cube. "Alright. At least get some recharge." She took the cube and rolled into the medical bay and back out towards her quarters. I should do the same, I thought.

I crossed to the other side of the room, my pedes beginning to feel truly heavy. Going down the hallway, I pushed my door open to my quarters and walked heavily. Landing on the berth I felt the coolness beneath my back struts. I need to tell Ratchet, my sparkmate, I can't hide this from him.

 

***  
(POV 3rd)

 

The whole base was quiet, none of the mecha or femmes were awake, except for one. It may was only 5 in the morning but most mecha were asleep, except for Ratchet. He was there thinking and fixing little tools and little machines wore with use.

His servos firm with the welder as he soldered the device together to it's original being. It's spherical shape had been changed back to a sphere with a rectangular handle. Not being too specific, but this little device has been crushed and destroyed so many times; it surprised Ratchet that he managed to finish it in one piece.

It was an Energon mapper: it was used to find the coordinates of Energon in its more pure forms. Since for a time, they all have had to go with less and less, making everyone on edge.

Energon, basically being the foodstuffs for Cybertronians and fuel source for their weapons, would make anyone afraid that the next day they would be nothing more than scrap. Fragged they are without it. But if Megatron knew of the device he would try and use it himself, even though he has the Nemesis, which already has a device similar to it. But knowing Megatron, he's unpredictable, that's what makes him all the more dangerous to the Autobots, even if they did win the war.

Sooner in the morning, the rest of the mecha and femmes ventured from their recharge rooms. Ratchet, being up most of the night, knew if he wanted any recharge, he would have to make it quick.

He placed down his tools and walked out, Bulkhead and Bumblebee were chattering amongst themselves along with Arcee and Nightblade, but no Optimus. He walked with heavy steps down the hall, passing 5 doors to finally reach his and Optimus' room. When they bonded, they thought it would be better if they shared a room and such. Quietly, he pushed the door open, knowing that Optimus was still in recharge he slipped in beside him quietly.  
Optimus shifted to meet medic’s optics, they were dimmed and tired but a small smile was on his faceplate.

"Good morning." His voice quiet, leaning closer to the medic and placing a light kiss on his lips. Ratchet couldn't hold back a smile, a tired one but a happy one. Optimus slowly rose from the berth, enough to sit up, rubbing his optics and faceplate. "Orion?" Looking back at the medic, taking an arm around the medic’s waist, he held both together like glue.  
Both were tired, Optimus didn't want to admit it but he was terribly out of it, along with Ratchet. But Ratchet never wanted to admit anything, hard helmed mech if there ever was one. Their sparks batted in sync, lulling them both in a state of recharge.

***

Ratchet woke up alone, not the usual when he was recharging with Optimus. Both mecha usually got up at the same time, today he assumed was different. Shifting his weight, he slid off the berth with a clank as his pedes reached the floor. Pushing the door open, he realized that something was up on base, usually the base was loud, and it was quiet. All too quiet considering how Smokescreen and Bulkhead can be.

Taking calm steps out he understood why immediately, he looked on in horror as his leader and sparkmate was sitting on the floor with a bucket in his servos, filled with Energon that was a foul color. Brown, never ever a good color for Energon, going in or out.

Ratchet raced over to where his mate was, concern shown through his optics. "What happened?" He turned to face everyone, "Get out, everyone, out." Bulkhead and Arcee froze, Bumblebee and Smokescreen walked back to their quarters. Nightblade swished the two frozen mech and femme out of the base's main area, both reluctant to leave their leader. "That means you too, Night." Ratchet called across the room while he stood close to his mate, she nodded and made sure that everyone stayed out of the main part of base. 

Everyone was out, Ratchet looked down at his mate who still held the bucket with the bad Energon. "What did you have last night?" He asked while beginning to scan his mate, seeing no internal problems. Optimus sighed while readjusting himself on the hard floor, "I had Energon with extra minerals." He whispered, making Ratchet worry for his lover and mate. 

He knew Prime sometimes had terrible dream cycles which caused him physical pain because he thrashed about in the night, but Ratchet still didn't know that his lover has been awake for four solar cycles. 

"Why did you have the minerals put in, Orion?" His voice grew softer, Prime went silent, more so than usual. Ratchet turned and knelt down in front of the mech, looking deeply into the dimmed blue optics. Optimus knew that he had to answer, Ratchet didn't like silence when he asked a question. "Is that why Night came into the medical bay yesterday?" Embarrassment filled Optimus' Energon filled veins rolled through him, having another flash of purging in front of his mate into the bucket.

Ratchet was taken aback by the large mech's body's response, making his feel rather terrible for his mate. Not only for the fact that he could feel how Optimus felt over the bond but because he didn't feel it earlier in the morning. He walked briskly over to where the Energon dispenser was and grabbed a cube for his mate, leaving anything extra out of the said cube. Being back beside his mate, he held a servo on his leader and lover's back while having the other give the cube. The large mech taking the cube shakily from the medic, slowly taking sips. "Sorry Orion," He cooed, holding his lover close, feeling his shaky frame. Holding the cube close to his chassis, "Ratchet," His voice cracked. "I believe I'm carrying."

***  
(POV Ratchet)

 

"No doubt in my processors, Prime. You are indeed carrying. I do believe congratulations are in order." Nightblade smiled while looking at each monitor, turning to face the Prime. "And you're only into first month of gestation, only 13 more to go." I looked at her, raising an optics. "How do you know this?" She turned back to the monitors, "I can't know the exact time of conception, and personally, that would be too personal a question to be asking the CMO and Prime." Tapping away at the monitors. "At least with the war over, we won't have to worry so much about Decepticon attack." Her voice quieted. 

"You still worry?" I turned to Orion, surprised at him slightly. She sighed, adjusting the screen. "I always worry, but now I have three reasons to worry about." She gestured to Orion. Without another thought both of us asked simultaneously. "Three?"

She laughed, "The Decepticons and the two inside of you, and you, Orion. Never mind, four things." Twins, twins, I'm sire to twins. I felt a stupid grin come onto my face. Then the room began to swirl and dip, turning black.

***  
(POV Optimus Prime)

 

Nightblade wasn't far from Ratchet when his whole chassis collapsed, I'm glad for that. I only felt happiness go through the bond before he fell. "What happened to him?" I asked her, concern in my voice. "His CPU crashed, it's more than normal for mecha to crash after being told they are going to be a sire." She hoisted his chassis over her shoulder, not having trouble with him. "So, uh, anything I need to know? About carrying I mean." She placed Ratchet nicely onto the other medical berth that was in the infirmary on the Ark. "Well, I guess there's a list. But first thing's first," She grabbed something from under the cabinet, under one of the larger monitors. "Drink this, make it quick." Handing me a magenta colored, I inspected it. 

"Is this the same as what I had last night?" She nodded. "Yes, however, it's better regulated." I looked back down at the cube, drinking it quickly, visibly wincing at the flavor. "Now that's out of the way, let me begin with one thing major." Chuckling, throwing herself onto the counter that lay in front of the berth.

"The need for you to have Energon is essential, since you have two sparklings, they will be taking minerals and your energy right from you. So your intake of Energon will have to be doubled, if not tripled, meaning one to two normal Blue's with the Medical grade." I listened, absentmindedly nodding. "Also with that, rest, recharge is also part of the main battle." My tank gurgled, a servo rested on it, a small heat rose in my system. "Was that the only cube for today?" I shook my helm, rubbing small circles on my tank. I was looking down at what would soon become something bulbous, excitement for the two new sparklings was a grand feeling. "Here," A Blue cube was placed in my servo, three more on the counter with Night. "Thanks," I whispered, sipping at the Blue cube's contents, she nodded. "Well that should make you feel better, yeah?"

"I guess I should go over some other key points, yeah?" I continued to sip at the Blue cube, giving a slight nod to her question. "Well, the morning sickness, the purging, will only last for this month, and some parts of the eleventh and twelfth month." Oh well that's just great, fragging great, I thought with grit of my denta. "Mood swings are another thing but I don't think we need to cover them. If needed, we will. But more importantly, when you're in the ninth to tenth month your T-cog will stop allowing you to transform for the time being." I finished the cube, placing it down.

"Any questions?" She asked while getting up from the counter, grabbing the cube and putting it into subspace. I thought for a klik, no other questions came to my processor. "Not at the moment." She nodded, looking at the monitors behind me, tapping away at the panel. 

I opened my mouth to ask if something was a matter however, chose to keep quiet. "No, nothing's the matter." She turned her helm to face me, I raised an optic ridge at her. "Don't give me that look, we both know you were wondering." She laughed lightly, turning back to the monitor. 

"Lay down, you nor Ratchet will be leaving my infirmary today." I laughed. "Ratchet always said that. Okay maybe he was referring to the berthroom, but you know." I couldn't help sigh a bit. "You two are trouble, you know that?" She laughed, checking Ratchet, or at least that's what it looked like from the angle I had lying down.

"Well, the least I can say is his CPU is still functioning. But if anything, a good, solid recharge will do 'im some good." Night stated clearly, going back to the monitors, tapping and clicking. "I have a question for you," I shuttered my optics. "Yes?" 

"Would it be okay for me to tell base the news, or would you and Ratchet prefer to tell 'em yourselves?" I don't know, I need to think about it... "I don't know." A gentle beep rose over the silence in the room, I un-shuttered my optics. "Okay, well, I won't tell base anything. I'll just say that you'll explain at a later point, sound good?" 

The beeping stopped. "Hmm.” I hummed in agreement. “What was with the beeping, Night?" I asked, hearing her roll slowly out of the infirmary. "It was just a timer, I'll be right back." A timer, for what? I thought. I shuttered my optics once again, feeling how tired I actually am, allowed recharge to overtake me.

***  
(POV Nightblade)

 

"So what's up with Prime?" 

"Is he gonna be okay?" Smokescreen and Arcee asked quickly, concern laced through their words. I calmly walked passed over to where the Energon storage was, entering it and looked at the oven. We have ovens, we make stuff too. 

"Night. What's wrong?" Bulkhead asked, I opened and reached into the oven, grabbing what was cooking. "Nothing is wrong you three." I stated, taking another pie out of the oven. Yes, an Energon pie. I like pie and I made pie, deal with me. "What is that?" I placed down the pie, looking at Smokescreen in shock. 

"You have never seen an Energon pie? What's wrong with you?" I spurred, making him flinch a bit. "Want some? Anyone?" I asked, slicing it with one of my digits. "Sure, I'm sure none of us have had an Energon pie since before the war." Arcee shrugged, I pulled out some plates from subspace, throwing a piece onto each plate for everyone.

"You think Prime and Ratchet's going to be able to have some?" I nodded to Bulkhead's question, "War's over. And that's why I made two pies." I handed over a plate to each of the mecha in the room, all was silent for a moment, but then, "Guys, what is that magical smell?!" 

Bumblebee... 

I shook my helm, smiling at his younglingishness. Yes, that is a word, I think. "Sorry, we ate it all." I snorted, hiding the pie behind my back, pretending. His door wings drooped down, his jaw going slack. "Oh, I'm only kidding. Here," A small pang of guilt came through my circuits, but changed to relief when 'Bee took the pie slice, taking a nibble, visibly melting with the flavor. 

"Is it good, 'Bee?" Smokescreen joked, patting 'Bee's shoulder. "It reminds me of home." He sighed, taking another taste. The room now silent. I don't like silence, I always manage to hear a small buzzing noise in my helm... "I'm going to check on those two, enjoy the pie, there's more if you want it."

I walked out, without listening to another word of theirs, taking the untouched pie with me. Pushing the door open, expecting two recharging mecha, but greeted with one recharging and the other looking at a data pad. "Hey sleeping beauty, glad to see you functioning." I placed down the pie and Ratchet looked up from the pad. 

"Uh-huh," He then looked back down at the data pad, I walked over to his berth, sitting beside him. "You okay?" I asked, briefly looking at the data pad he held, it was bantering pictures of him and Prime. He sighed, powering down the pad and placing it next to him on the other side of the berth. "I just can't believe... I know he wanted a family but, I don't know if I-" I cut him off, "Now stop, before you say you're not ready, let me say you are, you both are. It's scary, I know. I have had to worry for four sparklings of Skyblaze. I know what you're feeling. But just know that in the end you and he will still be each other." He looked down at his lap. "I don't mean to say that what you're feeling has no merit, it does. I am only trying to say that you have to trust your actions to be right, Primus chooses us at uncertain times, but he is certain of our ability to handle what we are given." He sighed, leaning back with his servos as support. 

"I trust what you say, but I don't trust my own actions. What if I make the wrong choice and I end up hurting them?"

"I doubted everything I did when Sky was carrying, but she was there for me in my times of weakness, and I was there for hers. Prime will be there for you and you will be there for him." I patted his shoulder, lightly trying to lighten the mood.

"Ratchet?" I looked over to where Orion was lying on the berth, Ratchet slid off his berth, walked over his. "I'm here." He whispered, seeing him gently grab the large mech’s servo in his. Optimus did a relieved sigh, sitting up on the berth, pulling the medic up on the berth with him. I took a moment to myself as they embraced there. 

I reached into subspace and grabbed a data pad. It was one of the journals that Sky had while she was carrying, it was one of the last things I have of her. The memories hurt, like freshly cut wounds. I powered it on, looking at her writing which the title was written in. I turned the internal page, seeing her face and me holding her from behind. A pained smile came onto my face, a tightness came into my chassis.

"Night?" I quickly looked up, seeing two pairs of bright cyan blue optics looking at me. "You look like you're ready to tear up." Optimus whispered, Ratchet holding him close. I rubbed my optics, just in case some washer fluid did form. "Heh, oh, because I was." I vented, trying to relieve the tightness in my chassis. "Here, she took notes on her experiences and gave herself explanations as to why."

I walked over from the berth, handing over the data pad. "And there's pie over there if you want any. I – I need a few minutes to collect myself." I whispered, pointing to the pie and walked out, keeping what composure I still have before coming to my berthroom to allow every ounce of washer fluid to leave my optics.

***  
(POV Optimus Prime)

 

::You think she's going to be okay?:: Ratchet asked me through the bond connection, I sighed looking at the data pad. ::Only time will tell, Ratch. When she breaks, she's broken, and she's been broken for a very long time.:: The data pad was on a picture of Skyblaze standing with a visibly round abdomen and Nightblade holding her from behind, with one of her larger smiles. ::I have never seen her so happy.:: I smiled, leaning down to Ratchet, I placed a kiss on his helm. ::I love you, Ratchet.:: ::I love you too, Orion.::

***

“Nightblade, you doing okay?” I knocked on the door, “Prime, just, go away.” A choked sob came from behind the door. “Please,” Standing there, I knocked again, this time entering. She was huddled in the corner with the berth on its side. I walked in, the room was darkly lit, but I could see a small puddle of Energon where she was.

“Why do you have to be so persistent?” Her optics looked towards me but her chassis faced the wall, washer fluid falling from her optics in a steady stream. I pulled the berth back up to its correct posture and over to Nightblade. “I know you all too well, Night. You shouldn’t be left alone when you’re -” 

“Like this?” She sighed, I leaned down onto one knee. “You just need to worry about yourself, Prime.” She scooched closer to the corner, a small pull of hurt went through my systems.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, her venting hitched. “Me too, but I don’t want you to see me like this.” Her servos wiping at her face, I lifted myself up. Extending my servo, I silently asked to pull her up, she slowly accepted. Once she was back on her pedes, she threw her arms around me.  
“I’m sorry. I just really miss her, I really miss her, Orion.” 

Her cold and slightly wet frame shook against mine. I lowered my servos around her, trying to make her relax, moving up and down her back struts in a calming matter. “I know you do.” 

::Ratchet,:: I held her helm, the only thing I know at the moment to comfort her. ::Yes?:: Ratchet’s voice calmed me, the hurt I felt a minute ago leaving my systems. ::Uh, any idea on how to get Night out? It has been 8 weeks. I’m worried for her.:: 

I am worried, she’s not alright. ::I don’t know, Orion. Maybe just ask her to leave?:: Her choked sobs slowing, pulling herself away. “I’m sorry, Orion.” She wiped her optics with her servos clean of the light blue fluid. “Let me collect myself, please. I’ll come out.” 

::It seems that she may come out on her own.:: I smiled down at her, optics dimming. “I will let you, Night.” She nodded, rubbing her optics again. I reached out and placed my servo on her shoulder. “Please.” Retracting my arm and servo, I pedded out of her room.

::Good.:: Before leaving the room, I looked back, closing the door slowly. My optics are lassitude, every time I un-shutter them they’re just tired. My pedes are heavy, but I have to keep moving. The ship seemed larger the first few times we were here, but now it’s able to be transversed without Bulkhead getting lost. He has done that.

Servos trailed around my waist in a soothing matter, lightly touching my abdomen. Mine landed on his, my spark fluttering. “Oh, hi.” He whispered, I relaxed into his embrace. “Hello.” I purred, loving his gentle touch. “How are you, sweetspark?” Kissing my side, he came around to face me. I smiled down at him. “Only tired, but well.” His helm nodded slightly, taking a free servo and went into subspace, retrieving a magenta cube and a Blue one. I took the magenta cube, drinking its bitter substance, not holding back my wince. “Thank you.” 

My optics beginning to get heavier, a wave of dizziness hit.. “I need to a sit a moment.” I turned and sat on a desk that was welded down close to the wall. Ratchet sat beside me, taking the now empty cube and handed over the other Blue cube.

We sat quietly as I sipped the cube, however, dizziness was beginning to truly attack. My helm swung from side to side, something I didn’t notice at first. “Lay down,” The femme’s voice called over from the hallway. 

“What?” Ratchet asked, unsure of what she meant. “Sometimes just lying down helps when your equilibrium is being tampered with.” I looked at her best I could, tilting my helm. “Who would be tampering with it?” She looked at me with amusement in her optics. “The two sparklings. Now, lie down.” I obeyed. “Oh, so how are you, Night?” Ratchet asked, sliding off the desk. “I am not the best, but I will get better with time. I hope.” Her voice got quieter as she spoke.

“Have you scanned him today?” 

“Yes.” She tapped her digits together and her chin. “Alright, well, this is far from a comfortable place. Let’s just take you to your quarters, your equilibrium should have done a mild reset already.” I leaned back up, still holding the cube, quickly downed it. Getting up was ease, sliding off was easy. ::Want help?:: I smiled at the medic, ::I’m sure I can walk fine to quarters.:: I pedded out of the room to our quarters.

***

“What do you mean she disappeared?”

I asked with a hint of anger in my tone. “It’s just as I said, we can’t find her and she won’t answer her Comm link.” Smokescreen told me while cowering back a bit from me, making me feel a bit too hostile. “Can’t find her, Prime.” Bumblebee called from the Ark’s entrance from the ground bridge. 

“Where could she have gone? It’s not like she has a ship, not one that flies anyway.” Ratchet remarked, coming to my side, hugging my waist, I sighed.

.:Hey Prime.:. I shook my helm, with relief and disappointment. “Well, she’s not deactivated.” .:Nightblade, you worried the entire base. Where in the pits are you?:. I snarled over the Comm, “She Commed you, so is she okay?” Bumblebee asked with concerned optics. .:I got held up, I’ll be there soon. I will explain everything when I get back. No questions please.:. 

I growled audibly, feeling tender servos intertwined with mine. “She’s heading back, or so she says.” I sighed, taking my free servo to the side of my helm. “I’m going to deactivate her myself.” A gentle squeeze came from Ratchet, turning to look at him, he smiled and shook his helm.

::I’m sure she had a valid reason to leave for a few days, Orion.:: ::She should have mentioned it to at least one of us. She shouldn’t have just left without anyone’s knowledge.:: I sighed, rubbing my optics, then looking down, seeing the enlarging and rounding abdomen. I felt a small flutter in my spark chamber.

.:Please don’t kill me.:. She whispered over the Comm link, almost like she heard what I was semi planning to do to her. Ratchet reached his free servo to touch my rounding abdomen. ::Everything will be alright.:: Continuing to hold his servo in mine. ::For her sake, it better.::

***

Standing with my arms crossed over expanding tank, staring at the silver femme. “Explain yourself, will you?” She rubbed the back of her neck cabling. “May I explain in a more private matter?” She asked quietly, my optics narrowed. .:This is as private as you’re going to get.:. I sighed, she nodded hesitantly. .:Okay, I was on a, um,:. She trailed off, I tilted my helm at her, my optics dimming with lassitude. .:I was having a meltdown...: She answered finally. .:I didn’t want anyone to know, it’s embarrassing.:. My frame softened with knowing what has been happening, seeing a heated blush come onto her face, her battle mask quickly sliding over to cover it. “I see,” I turned away from her a moment. .:I didn’t mean to worry anyone of you.:. Facing her again, her optics showed shame and embarrassment.

“I understand, but you did.” I nodded, her helm leaning down, mask retreating. “Sorry, I just… I didn’t think about those on base.” I ex-vented, allowing my systems to cool, but it didn’t help much. A cold heat rose up my back struts, feeling cold then a flash actual heat. “Just don’t do it again if possible, at least mention your absence.” 

I heaved my venting, a pressure in my chassis, spark chamber and abdomen. Placing down my servo on the underside of my rounding tank, she lifted her head. “Hard to breathe?” I nodded slightly, starting to feel a faintness come again. “Here,” She whispered, taking my free arm around her shoulders, “Relax your legs.” 

“What -- why do you want me to do that?” My breathing hitched, helm feeling lighter. “Trust me.” Doing as she asked, my knees bent in a relaxed position. She did what I wasn’t expecting, grabbed my knees with her other arm and held me up. I turned my helm a bit to look at her, asking her silently why, why of all positions. “I won’t drop you, if anything, you’re easier to lift.” I felt she lifted one pede at a time, each becoming flat. “Okay.” I whimpered. This is embarrassing, but I guess it’s okay. “I’m going to take you to the medical bay. I need to check something of yours.”

The door slid open revealing an empty main area, I expected it at least have Bumblebee and Bulkhead and maybe Smokescreen. “Teletraan 1, initiate protocols 21324 directive 4234. Make it snappy.” She spoke loud enough for if anything, the entire could ship to hear. “Initiating protocols 21324 directive 4234.” I blinked at her, the door to the medical bay opening with a sound scraping noise. “What are those protocols, Night?” She stayed silent, the door closing behind us. She set me on the berth which was cool underneath my aft. Her servos seemed to type frantically at the monitor on the other side of the berth, I can’t tell what she’s looking for but she’s looking as if her life depends upon it.

“That protocol is used for semi-emergency purposes, basically Comming everyone and saying stay out of the medical bay. Don’t worry, nothing’s the matter, as of yet.” Servos tracing the screen, dragging things from different areas. “Now, I know I haven’t been the best second medic in the past few weeks, which I am truly sorry for.” She paused momentarily over one object on screen.

“However, since my absence and Ratchet speaking to me about not being sure what he is looking for when it comes to sparklings, he asked that I look you over, since experience.” She turned back to, the dizziness fading. “Oh,” I whispered. “So why not just say that? You could have said that earlier, I wouldn’t have to worry.” I whined. 

She didn’t need to withhold information from me, I’m capable of knowing information such as this. “Because if I did you would want to walk yourself here and you’d faint and then there could be more issues for you and I, mostly for you though.” Pulling over a tall machine with an orange and red design. “Lay down please.” I obeyed. “This is just to check how the sparklings bodies are forming.” I nodded, hearing clicks as she typed at the screen.

Pulling out the chord, she placed its rounded tip on my expanding tank. She rolled it around the entire area, the cool metal made me shiver a bit. Never letting her gaze leave the screen she said, “I’m counting all 2 bodies, good. Nothing to report, good.” Taking the device back over to the other side of the room, she looked at the scans more, as far as I could tell. 

“What were you looking for?” I asked, leaning up while throwing my legs off the side of the medical berth. “A list of things, but only because when Sky was carrying Moondancer, I found an anomaly in Moon’s frame, which nearly caused her to form -- to become malformed. And a couple other things but that had been the main one.” I blinked, absentmindedly placed my servo over my slightly rounded tank, a wash of relief came over me. “So, nothing bad?” I asked, a hint of curiosity and worry in my words. Shaking her helm, she stayed silent.

Silence was in the medical bay for a few minutes, so I thought I could talk to Ratchet. ::Ratchet?:: I called over the bonded connection, for a few moments, equally as silent as the room. ::Yes, sweetspark? What is it?:: A softness to his voice. It’s nice when he isn’t throwing or using wrenches against his victims and when he’s being quiet. 

::Nothing really. It’s just really quiet in here.:: A gentle hum rose from the other side of the room, a fast beat. I looked up to see Night mouthing what looked to be words, but which one’s I don’t know. ::I can come over there if you want.:: A small smile came onto my lips, the heat in my system rising. I didn’t respond to Ratchet at first, Nightblade turned to me before I could. “Want a Cube?” A growl came from my tank, loud enough that she would hear it fine from across the room, pit, across the whole ship. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She laughed, which made my faceplate heat up. Reaching into subspace, she retrieved two Blue Cubes and one Magenta colored Cube, handing over one of each. “Thanks.” I whispered, my gaze fixed onto the Blue cube, her purple optics shining.

Along came a knock on the medical bay’s doors. Ratchet. “I got it.” I rolled my optics, it’s not like I can move all that fast, while or while not carrying. The door slid open again with a scraping noise, revealing the white and orange medic, my mate. “Welcome to the nut house, strait jackets are to the left. Have drink!” Swishing her arm, ushering him in while offering a Blue Energon Cube. He took it without another thought, “Thanks,” He whispered, turning his helm over to face me, giving a small smile. 

“How are you doing?” I scoffed. “I’m fine.” He sat beside me, pulling me down onto his lap. Nightblade snorted with a chuckle. “I’ll leave you two be, Comm me if needed!” She began to walk out but stopped, peaking her helm back into the room. “Oh, by the way, I’m going to be in the training area with my music playing. Just a heads up.” She closed the door and was gone.

“How are my sparklings?” Ratchet’s servo traced my face while the other softly rubbed my tank. “We are fine.” My optics beginning to flicker, I realized how tired I actually was. His servo slipped across my neck cabling, my engine humming with approval. 

A rumble came from what I believe was the training area, low but loud. The sound seemed similar to that of Miko’s music.

That’s the last thing I remember until I fell into recharge with my helm in his lap.

***  
(POV 3rd)

 

"Okay everyone, we are doing strategy training today. I know that most of you may think that you're pretty well off when it comes to it, for two of you, you would be correct." Nightblade stated, looking at Optimus and Ratchet. "However, rest of you younglings wouldn't have the slightest idea as to when to inflict a mortal wound or when to retreat. This is where I come in, I will be your opponent." Bumblebee and Smokescreen looked at each other with confused optics, Arcee and Bulkhead did the same, Prime laughed. 

"How are you going to do that? There's six of us, and well, one of you." The comment that Arcee made her smile. Going into subspace, she retrieved the same remote that she had used for the training room. Pressing one button and swiftly throwing the remote back into subspace.

"This is how." She stated, moments passed and weird semi-solid figures formed, and changed into Nightblade's more mech-like build. The looks on those in the room were amazing, ranging from confused to intrigued, amusing the copied mech. "Solid holograms can hurt you, be ready to fight us. Be able to think on your feet, don't allow one to hurt you." She had spoken in echo, holding an ominous smile, blades unsheathed. 

"Don't do something rash, but someone will attack first. It could be you or it could be one of I." The three Nightblade's stood low and ready to strike at any of the other mecha in the room.

***

They all fought for perhaps an hour, the only mecha that didn't have their own Energon drip from wounds was Optimus, and the others had a few cuts or scrapes that decorated their chassis'. Smokescreen and Bumblebee were back to back, which strategically worked well for the two. Arcee, Bulkhead, and Ratchet sometimes fought beside each other but Ratchet usually stayed (much) closer to Optimus, typical for bonded mecha to want to fight close together. They are able to 'speak' to each other and be almost unstoppable in any situation.

The Nightblades’ have been in a way taunting the rest of the mecha, making them fall victim to her blades. None inflicted a 'mortal wound' as Nightblade was mentioning earlier, however, she did set restrictions as to how far the holograms went with their blows. She knew she could fight harder and faster than the holograms but she wanted to blend in, make it so none of the others could tell if they were fighting a hologram or the real thing.

"Nightblade, I'm getting tired of this!" Smokescreen called out, slashing with his swords. He missed, terribly. "Finish me off!" All three snarled, facing their opponents. Bumblebee growled in irritation, an exasperated sigh coming from Smokescreen. Arcee and Bulkhead were not having too much trouble with the copy of Nightblade, however, they were beginning to find this more tedious than useful.

The Nightblade that was fighting Smokescreen, left her chassis clear and unprotected. He saw the opportunity to strike. Bumblebee blocked the two slashing blades from her while Smokescreen dove through and jabbed his own blade down below the spark chamber. 

A surprised gasp erupted from this Night, a look surprise but quickly turned snide. "You found my weak spot. Let's see if I can find yours." Her optics becoming a dark impassioned purple. Smokescreen's optic widened and ridges rose when she kicked him away, having the swords pull out of her. This motion caused him to stagger and nearly fall to the ground. He didn't know this was the real Nightblade, all he knew was that he was probably going to get the brunt of the blade from her. Heh, get the joke? Blade. Since her name is Nightblade? Oh, whatever.

Her pedes were in wheeled form and she used that to her advantage. Crunching down on her good (real - left) leg and swiped with the other, making sure that her motions made contact with this mech's leg. He gave out a cry out of pain, it was a solid hit. Now down on his back, her left arm detached from her shoulder and was now a sword of the same length. 

She strode up to him as if she was ready to end him, which, if anyone didn't know was not her plan. She just loved to intimidate him though, it was fun to watch him squirm. Bumblebee did try to stop her advances, only then she threw her blade up and she then throwing a punch to the young scout's chassis while he was distracted with the flying sword.

Gracefully (hardly, she nearly dropped it) she caught the sword with her (one) good servo, turning back to Smokescreen, she felt the optics of the other mechs' in the room watching her from across it. Pointing down her blade, down close to the spark chamber, she let a small but powerfully chilling voice. "Yield." He threw up his servos in defeat, while still being almost pinned to the ground.

She smiled, her long sword turned back into her arm, which then was placed back into her shoulder. Lowering down her servo, offering him assistance back onto his pedes, he graciously accepted. But she was half thinking of scaring the living slag out of him, which would entail her fist coming close to his face in a punching matter, that should do just the trick. 

Smoothly pulling him up, throwing a very close surprise near his face. He yelped and threw up his other arm to block his face, but no blow came. She pulled him up all the way, leaning down close to his face with a smug grin. "Never trust the enemy." Releasing his servo, she looked down at the Energon that was pouring out of the wound. "You got me good, you know that? There has only been two mechs in my life be able to get me in a nearly fatal blow, you two have done superbly." Bumblebee got up to his pedes, rubbing the soreness from his chassis. "I think we've all done well today, let's get youse guys patched up." She turned to leave but the floor said hello instead.

***

"Did I hurt her bad?" Smokescreen asked with worry in his voice. The medic nodded his helm as he scanned her, beginning to grab tubes for an Energon infusion. "She should be fine with some rest, and not being stabbed would probably do her some good, too." It has been a few Earth hours since Nightblade has been jabbed through the middle of her chassis, she hadn't responded at all to anything, not even the floor. 

"I thought we were fighting a hologram!" He cried out, turning his helm away from the grey femme that laid on the berth. "As did we, however, we didn't terminate our holograms with force, we gave them a chance. Just in case that one of ours was the real Nightblade, we didn't want to deactivate her because we acted out of thrill of the moment." Ratchet growled, Optimus walking in behind Smokescreen.

He placed one of his large servos onto the white sporty mech, slowly turning to face his leader. "It's not your fault that this happened, Smokescreen. What you have to remember is that she will forgive you. But I do ask this of you: don't try to terminate one of your team, even if you assume that it's a hologram." The younger mech nodded, lowering his gaze to grimace at the wraps on the grey femme that laid comatose on the berth. "I just -- I'm sorry." He blinked, a feeling of guilt coming through his Energon filled veins. He wanted to leave but his legs didn't work, they only held him there.

"Go get some recharge, she'll be alright." The Prime patted the shoulder of the white sporty mech, soon moving his helm and beginning to walk out with a heavy step. The Prime shook his helm, walking over to the other berth that laid across the room. Waiting, to make sure that Smokescreen was out of audio shot, "Right?" The curious worry that he had hidden now showed more prominently. 

"Based on what happened, and on how she's recovering, your words are sound." The medic, took a sample of the Energon that flowed through her veins. Taking the sample that was fresh from her, he took it over to a turnstile, separating each part of the Energon from heaviest to lightest, from bottom to top.

There were four different layers, a very thin white layer, a thicker layer (by almost double) of yellow, blue, and an equally thin layer as the first with purple. 

"Interesting," The medic whispered. The Prime with his extraordinary audio receptors, picked up what he had said. "What?" The medic shook his helm, stopping himself from musing. "It's just, I haven't seen a femme before with a purple substance in the main Energon line. Green or more blue but no purple." The Prime's helm tilted, pulling his pedes into a crossed position on the berth. "What would that entail?" The medic wrote down his findings, staying silent, as did the Prime.

The Prime looked down at his slightly expanded tank, having a feeling of nirvana. He knew that two sparklings were growing inside, sure he was worried that he wouldn't be a great carrier, but Ratchet always made him feel at peace with himself. He allowed his darker thoughts to be pushed away.

"Optimus, you should get some recharge as well." The Prime frowned, "Are you not turning in?" Throwing his legs off the berth, he slid off with a clank. "I'll be there in a minute. I'm just going to make note of a few things." The Prime shook his helm with a light swoosh, coming up behind the medic, taking his free servo in his. "Please?" Optimus' want for him to come to the berth with him made him smile, leaning up to kiss the Prime. "I'm coming, sweetspark." Ratchet placed down the data pad he was using to take notes, both walking off to their quarters.

***

Slowly coming to, Nightblade’s purple optics strained to focus, let alone see, with the bright light of the medical bay. Not that she knew that she was there, all she thought she knew was that she had gone to her berthroom on the Ark. Too bad, amnesia is a glitch. She threw her servos over her faceplate and rushed them across her optics, almost trying to clear an invisible hindrance. Ex-venting, lazily slamming her arms down onto the berth, making a clanking thump. Ogling at the ceiling, the door of the bay moved open, revealing the medic, but she didn’t notice.

"Welcome back to the land of the functional." He stated in a joking manner, her gaze still fixated on the ceiling. Optics shined dimly in the bright light of the bay, she still struggling catch sight of Ratchet, now knowing he was there. "Why am I here?" Night spoke with dry-monotone voice, unusual to her. Even though when she speaks during the day or with other mecha, she often hides her wounds with soft words and a happy exterior. 

"First, let me ask you something, to answer a question with question." He rolled his helm to the right, glimpsing at the bandages around the torso of the femme, she lamely vented. "What is the last thing you remember?" Her helm stayed still, optics blinking again to attempt to see. "I don’t know. I thought I went to my berthroom last night," She checked her chronometer, showing a much different time than she originally thought. "But I see that ‘last night’ was a day and a third ago." Sighing. 

"I did have a strange dream, however, everyone was there. We were in a training session and there were three of me." A small laugh came out of her. "But, that wasn’t the kicker: ‘Bee and Smoky, they managed to get me stabbed." She leaned up, wincing. "Oh, well, that’s new." Looking down at bandages, gently forcing her gaze back towards Ratchet.

He sighed. "That wasn’t a dream. Now, hold still and lay down." She collapsed lazily back onto the berth, earning a glare from Ratchet, which was plainly ignored. A blue light came from above the berth, shining down, waving up and down the femme. "You at least seem to be healing well." The medic grumbled, "Can I move now?" 

With a small hint of sarcasm in her voice, not waiting for him to answer. The medic sighed (again), "Don’t strain yourself. You don’t need to have this wound to reopen." He made his way back to her berth, "I think that a brace may be better idea than these flimsy bandages; knowing you, you’ll need it." He rolled his helm back and forth, pulling open a drawer, which held other medical braces. Retrieving one, he made his way back to the femme, beginning to remove the bandage that had been dried with her spilled Energon.

"Smoky did good; I’m going to make sure he knows that." She smiled, nodding to herself. Ratchet maintained his gaze down on the brace that he was now putting on her. "He doesn’t like that he stabbed you, honestly, he feels really guilty for it." He raised his gaze to meet hers, his optics dim with a tiredness that she had seen before. 

He stepped back, sliding off she said. "Thanks, I won’t go crazy, Ratch." Snickering, shaking her helm, a small smile came onto both of their lips. "Are you going to go see everyone?" She nodded, "Why not? One of them feels like he nearly killed me, so why not I be that ghost that still lives?" A toothy grin grew on her, "I mean, of course." The smile relaxed.

***  
(POV Nightblade)

 

"Hey everyone! Not dead yet!" I laughed, doing a swoosh with my arms that closely resembled a ta-da stance. The brace hindered how far I could twerk my torso but that didn’t bother me all that much. "Good to know Smokes’ didn’t get you." Bulkhead commented, "Oh no, he got me good, which is exactly what I asked for." I smiled. 

I mean it’s true that he got me through the chest but he did what I asked: finish me off. "We were supposed to end you?" I smiled at Bulkhead with his naive question. "Of course. What else do you to an enemy?" A flash of pride turned guilt, my system began to heat. 

Back in the time of me being a gladiator, we gladiators didn’t have much choice as to what happened in the Pits. Most of those who battled me, I didn’t have it in my spark to kill them, I knew they had families that they only trying to be able to feed. I wasn’t one to take the spark of a sire or a carrier, may it be in either situation. That’s why Megatron was so popular with the crowds, he made sure that their sparks were taken and extinguished from their chest, something I wish I did to him all those millions ago.

"You show mercy, until the option been exhausted." The low voice told me quickly who had answered my question that was, I would assume, a bit of an ambiguous one. I smiled, turned my body slowly with my wheeled pedes, walking is boring. "I knew you would say something like, always had a big spark." 

It really is true when I say that he has a big spark, he cares for everyone, mecha to human alike. He returned a smile, a tired one. .:How’s your recharge?:. I asked over the private Comm link. His optics shown with a lackluster glow, .:Could be better. You had all of us worried.:. My smile faded a bit, knowing he was right about that. .:Yes, and I’m sorry about that. I didn’t expect Smokescreen to do anything so drastic, but I did say to finish me off. So, I kind of asked for it.:. I shrugged, he gave an audible "hmph", .:Speaking of Smokescreen, I need to talk to him.:. I stated, he nodded. "He should be in the training area, but be easy with him." I tilted my helm, a playful smirk came onto my faceplate. .:I will be as easy to him as his blade traveled through me, of course.:. "Of course." He rolled his optics, .:Jackaft.:. He said jokingly over the Comm link.

I wheeled myself over to the training area, as to perhaps make Smokescreen feel less guilty. I mean, I would feel guilty too, but only if I did offline a team member, to which I haven’t planned on or ever done. The only times I killed were because I wanted to survive to live another day either here on Earth or in the Pits of Kaon. 

The mech I was looking for was here, I could hear quiet curses and a repetitive thumping on what I would assume was one of the metal bags. Or to human standards, an over glorified punching bag made of softer metal that which made it easier to get dents out. I rolled quietly across the room, listening to his rapid punching spree on the bag. 

"She could be deactivated because of you." I heard him whisper, changing up his style by swinging his leg at the bag. I felt that now would be a good time to speak up, for reasons.

"Good form, however, when you changed to kicking you allowed your chassis to become unstable." I smiled at him, he quickly turned around, obviously startled by my sudden speech. I caught his optics look at the brace that was around my torso. "I’m sorry!" He cried, almost shying away, I continued to smile. 

"It’s okay, Smoky, I ain’t mad at you." Helm falling down, "If anything, I’m proud of you and Bumblebee’s teamwork." His gaze remained on the ground, I rolled closer, placing my servos on the sides of his shoulders. "Look at me." I ordered, he hesitantly took my gaze, fear obvious in his sight. "Don’t feel like you’re to blame for my injury, instead, feel proud that you managed to send down an ex-gladiator to the medical bay." I tried to ease my words with a smoothness that I used to calm down either Sky or Orion back before and/or after a fight.

"But - I - we thought - we thought that we were fighting a hologram. I didn’t mean to!" He gave a whimpered cry, fluid beginning to brim around the base of the optics. "You did what you were told, and you did it well." He blinked his optics clear of some of the fluid. "Don’t feel guilty, all is well: I will heal." I continued my gaze, looking down into his optics. 

"You’ve been forgiven, if that is what you were worried about. You are fine." His venting hitched a moment, coming back online soon after. "It - I mean - thanks." Small streaks of fluid did fall from his optics, a mild pull of sadness washed down my systems as each streaked down. Absentmindedly, I reached to wipe away the strays. He turned his helm away, I gave a weak smile. "I know you feel sorry, but you’re fine, I’m fine, everything's fine."

He stayed silent for a moment. "If you deactivated, it would have been my fault." He murmured, I made a deep vent. "My injury was just as much my fault as it was yours. With training with real weapons comes the risks of injury, I knew that could be the penalty." I whispered, gently taking his face, making him face me. "Please don’t beat yourself about it, life happens." He blinked again, "But, still…" He muttered. "Did you wake us that morning and think, ‘I’m going to kill a friend today’?" He barely shook his helm in reply, "It was only an accident," He dipped his helm, my servos dropped from his shoulders and moved to his upper back struts, closing in a hug. A gentle gasp escaped from his lips, but as quickly as I started the embrace, he did with acceptance of it. The embrace not holding long on my end, it felt like he wanted to hang on.

He looked at me with confused and glad optics, giving a small smile. "Now," I began. “Let’s take a break from training, don’t you think?” Calmly patting his shoulder, “It’s been a rough few days for everyone, I think.” He nodded with a slow motion. “Y-yeah.” He stuttered, taking one servo to scratch the back on his helm. We both stood there, in a more than a little awkward (for Smokescreen) stare. 

He cleared his throat. “Why don’t we get going?” He began to walk forward, around me, I doing the same. “Oh, sure, why not, bud?” I laughed. At least today he doesn’t need to feel guilty now.

***  
(POV Optimus Prime)

 

“Everything seems to going well for the three of you, good.” She scanned me again, over the spark chamber this time. “No spontaneous surges, good.” I stayed still, my optics looking down at my larger abdomen. “You’re 7 months along and all is well, as far as I can see.” She smiled, I sat up. Sliding my servo over the top, I couldn’t help but have a slight smile. I keep my gaze down, rubbing small circles on my abdomen. Hearing her sigh, “Drink up,” a purple cube being placed on the side of the berth, she rolled off. I turned my helm over, picking up the cube, inspecting it.

“Before you ask,” She began, “Yes, it’s supposed to be that color. And no, it shouldn’t have any side effects.” She stated, lamely taking a section of the monitor off. “That’s not exactly what I was going for, Nightblade.” Taking one last look at the purple cube before downing it. I nearly purged just by the feeling of it slide down my throat, a cold and (very) slimy texture. It took most of my strength to get it down and hold it down. I held in a vent for a moment, trying to make sure none came up when I wasn’t expecting it. 

“What is in this that makes it impossible to not want to purge?” I looked at her with disgusted optics, she turned to face me, still holding a section of the monitor. “Well, the color was because of liquid silver, good the strength of your gestation chamber: helps decrease infections. And borax as a cleaning agent, make sure all of your tubes are clean and clear.” I nodded slowly, swallowing a bit that travelled back up. “And the slimy-grossness?” I questioned, shaking my helm a bit, trying to rid my sensors of the flavor. 

She narrowed her gaze, shaking her helm. “That, I cannot fix. Each time I made it, it got slimy. I have no honest clue as to why it kept coming out like that.” She shrugged. “This might be better for your gustatory sensors.” Pulling one her servos from the section of the monitor to travel down into subspace, I sat and watched as her arm searched for something. She grunted a moment before hauling out something that I am unable to recognize. A black box, I raised an optic ridge. 

She fiddled with it to open, a small click and the top landed on the back hinges. “Rust on a stick?” Her arm pushed forward holding the black box, revealing the treat. I took one and began to nibble, she smirked. 

“You eat like a bird,” She stated, I looked up, a feeling of embarrassment flooded through my face. “You take little bites.” She smiled, placing the box down beside me on the berth, looking back to the monitor section. “It’s cute.” A small denta grin lined her lips, beginning to tamper with it. Finished with the first stick that was covered, I looked towards the box. Not looking up from her low hanging helm position, she opened her mouth. “If you want another have at it, I did make them for you.” She nodded, not at me I think. “Actually I made some for everyone, but these I kept safe from ‘Bee. That youngling likes pie and Rusties, it’s hard to keep either from him.” She chuckled. 

Clunk!

It was heard all around the room, not only sure if I felt it or if I just heard it. Nightblade looked up from her monitor, her expressions turned soft, or softened I should say. “That is what it sounds like to have a little one kick.” Shock was all I felt, then happiness took hold. Those feeling must have been sent across the bond to Ratchet, because he contacted me over the bond. 

::Sweetspark?:: He asked, making me smile a bit bigger. Nightblade came over and sat beside me, a servo slowly approached my bump. ::All is well. Why don’t you come here?:: She looked at me, asking for permission, I nodded with a small smirk. “I thought you were all fighting and no love.” I snorted, hearing a solid knock on the door, it slid open and back closed. “Hello you two.” My breathing slowed, my chassis relaxed. Nightblade was silent, only giving a small nod, sliding off the berth. “Everything checks out, nothing seems to be in error as of yet.” 

A small pull of worry washed over me. “Yet? Should we be worried?” I asked, Ratchet came and sat beside me on the berth, gently rubbing circles on my large tank. She shrugged. “It really depends.” I looked at her with suspicion, and a bit of anger rolled through my systems. “Environment, fuel intake, stress, it really and truly depends on what happens.” I felt a smooth servo come and take mine, gently stroking my knuckle joints.

“I’ll, uh, leave you two be, okay?” She half nodded to herself. “Oh! And before I forget,” Going back into subspace, she grabbed a small object. “This is the key to the oil rooms. Go and feel free to you know, take an oil bath.” She smiled a bit, as did I, throwing the key over. 

“Why not just have the oil rooms protected with something less likely to be misplaced?” She shrugged at Ratchet. “I don’t know, it’s been this way since I’ve had the ship.” 

Clunk, the feeling filled me with joy. “Was that what I think it was?” A confused grin came onto my lover’s lips. “Yes, love.” I smiled, guiding his servo over my round abdomen. “Want to kick again little one?” As a response, I was kicked and kicked hard where his servo rested, two solid kicks. “Whoa!” He exclaimed with a breath. 

Night gave a chuckle, leaning lazily against the wall. “It’s nice to see such happiness, such growth. It gives an old mech like me hope for the future.” I half nodded, all of us held a smile. I groaned a bit when I readjusted my placement on the berth, Ratchet gave a worried gaze. ::I’m fine, just wanted to get a bit more comfortable.::

“Want me leave you two alone?” I could hear the smirk that was on her face, I looked up to see I was correct. “I mean,” She cleared her throat. “Yeah, uh, never mind. I’ll just, yeah.” I tilted my helm at her, “Why so shy all of a sudden?” I teased, she snorted. “I don’t know, but -” I flinched into Ratchet with the sound of cracking glass. I looked at the glass that now had a web like fracture. “Excuse me.” Her chassis was stiff, but she calmly walked out of the medical bay. “What in the name of Primus was that supposed to be?” He asked, I only shook my helm.

“WHY WERE YOU LOBBING IN THIS AREA? YOU KNOW WE HAVE A PERFECTLY GOOD TRAINING AREA THAT IS MEANT TO BE LOBBED IN!” I looked out at the glass, hearing her loud yell, which was far from over. “BULKHEAD, SMOKESCREEN, BUMBLEBEE, I WILL HAVE YOUR SERVOS REPLACED WITH YOUR PEDES!” She continued. 

“I should stop that from happening.” He sighed, lazily sliding off the berth. I tried to move off but I kind of was stuck at the moment. “Help?” I asked sheepishly, a small heated blush rose in my cheeks. 

“GET BACK HERE, YOU COWARDS! TAKE YOUR PUNISHMENT LIKE MECHS!” I shook my helm, again. Ratchet helped me down, thankfully I can still walk. Sitting down and walking are still easy to do, however, getting up, that’s a much different story. 

We walked out (He walked, I did more of a waddle.), seeing the three running from Night, and a discarded lob ball close to the medical bay’s door. “Nightblade.” My love called out, but was ignored. “Nightblade, please stop.” She didn’t stop running at first, but she did. Her venting was heated, I could just tell, her optic ridges bared down. All quietly walking over to where Ratchet and I were standing.

“Whoa Optimus. We, uh, thought you were out.” Smokescreen stammered, obviously looking at my large rounded abdomen, making me feel a bit self-conscious. 

“Sorry Prime, I did get a little out of servo.” She relaxed her posture, “Yeah, yelling that you were going to replace our servos with pedes was a little over the top.” Bumblebee countered. “I wouldn’t have threatened any of you if you lobbed in the training area, like, I don’t know, you’re supposed to!?” My tank began to turn. “Enough, I’ve had enough of this. You three, go to the training after you fix the damage done to the medical bay. Nightblade, for the love of Primus, go for a damn drive.” I growled. I was irritated as is with this chaos; I didn’t want to listen to them bicker. But the way they looked at me hurt; they looked terrified. 

I blinked, trying to calm myself. “Yes sir.” Bumblebee broke the silence, dragging Smokescreen behind the helm over to the medical bay. “Sorry, Prime.” Bulkhead walked faster to I would hope to assume, catch up with the other two. Night still stood there, unmoved. “Nightblade, I wasn’t joking.” 

Nodding, “I know… Sir.” She whispered, slowly turning around towards Teletraan 1, most likely to make a ground bridge. I sighed, it’s like I live with overgrown sparklings. 

“Younglngs. I swear that if I didn’t know any better, they were trying to get into trouble.” He grumbled, grabbing my waist, he kissed one side of my rounded tank. “I know that everything should be fine.” He mumbled. “I hope so. I do hope so.”

***  
(POV 3rd)

 

It has been a month since the medical bay has been damaged by the lobbing of three unsuspecting mechs. Everyone’s nerves have eased, except for one, Optimus. He’s been rather, how should I say? Stressed. Not only with the sparklings but with the near constant bickering of the other mechs. Not to mention that he is now really and truly beginning to need help when it comes to moving about, which Ratchet has done his best to help the heavily carrying mech.

Now, he lay in his own berth, uncomfortable and full of sparklings. Pillows behind his helm and upper back struts. His optics dull and irritated with his own thoughts, worry being the main one. Ratchet knew this and checked on him often, often bringing a cube of Energon with him. 

His servos rested on the largely round tank, just looking at the ceiling. He was not only large in the front, but he was beginning to become wide as the sparklings growth progressed, which also added to his lack of mobility.

The door to the room slide open smoothly and quietly, the creakiness and scratching of the door’s mechanisms in the ship have been cleaned and replaced if needed, making everything less noisy. The medic, his bond and love walked in, the door closing behind him. Coming next to the heavily carrying mech, taking a servo on the helm of the carrier, he placed a light kiss. 

“Hello, sweetspark.” He whispered, pulling away slowly. “I got a few data pads for you, if you’d like.” He stated quietly, Optimus slowly nodded and turned his helm away. “Orion?” The medic asked, worry obvious in his voice. The Prime tried to ignore it but guilt wouldn’t allow him to. It gnawed at him until he couldn’t take it any longer holding back.

“Ratchet, I hate this.” He whispered, voice cracking. “I hate being a burden to everyone, especially you. Being like this makes me feel utterly useless,” He pulled in a hasty vent, “pathetic.” He murmured. 

“Look at me, I can’t even move by myself. Pit, I think I’m leaving a dent in the berth from my aft.” He felt his optics begin to brim with washer fluid, he didn’t even care that some started to fall. “Orion…” He took the helm of the Prime, looking into the lackluster blue optics. “You’ve never been a burden to anyone, especially to me.” He smiled at the Prime, trying to make him smile, but to no avail. “I just - I hate you seeing me like this.” More of the washer fluid fell, his servos went to cover his face plating. 

“I don’t want to look ugly in your optics, but I’m afraid that it’s too late for that.” Ratchet heard the Prime’s denta snap closed on each other, a violent sob erupting for the Prime. He took the large trembling servos of the Prime from his faceplate, pulling them to his chassis. “You’ve never looked ugly in my optics, and you never will, Orion.” He leaned down, kissing the Prime’s lips, trailing down to the large tank.

The medic crawled onto the berth, a creaky sound was made. His servos were laced with the Prime’s as he rubbed the sides of the tank, kissing here and there. The movement made the Prime purr, his engines revved gently. The revving made Ratchet smile into the light kisses he made on the round tank, enjoying the sounds of the engine.

Clunk! 

The sound of the Prime being kicked filled the berthroom, the smile pressed on the medic’s lips. “Little ones, help me make your carrier smile, please.” He purred, sliding over to the other side of the berth. He gently lifted the heavily carrying mech between his legs, rubbing the Prime’s lower back struts. Ratchet could feel the stress in the struts, thus making sure his digits made good work of it. Smoothly taking his digits through each strut, beginning to feel the Prime relax into the medic with each touch. The Prime released a sigh, not one of pain, and not one of pleasure.

A knock came on the door of the berthroom, the door staying closed. “Can I come in?” The one femme that Optimus really didn’t want to see at the moment, Nightblade. The main reason being that he felt that being like this was embarrassing, and allowing someone he knew to see him in such a state was undermining. He replied with a low groan before going stiff against the medic, he moved his servos over the sides of the heavily carrying mech’s tank. 

The door slid open, revealing the silver femme with medical equipment, which squeaked as she moved into the room. The door closed. “How're you feeling, Orion?” She asked while leading the medium sized equipment to one side of the berth. He didn’t answer, just a nearly constant hitching of his breathing. Both she and Ratchet noticed, both held a conversation over the Private Comm Link concerning this. 

At the moment, she needed to scan him and the sparklings but she could definitely relate to the Prime, with not wanting anyone to see him such a state of lax movement.

She looked to the equipment a moment turning it on and booting it up, only to turn back to a quietly crying Prime. “Why are there tears?” Wiping away the fluids that had fallen, he turned his helm away. “Orion, look at me.” When he didn’t make a motion she guided him to face her, she saw the dull glow he had. She wanted to make him not cry but it seemed to make it worse. 

“Hey,” She started, sitting on the edge of the berth. “It’s all going to be fine, I promise you that.” Wiping away more of the washer fluid that fell, he slowly nodded, attempting to readjust himself. “Will it be alright if I scan you?” She asked in a sweet whisper, the Prime nodded with a sniff. “Okay.” She let her servo fall from his cheek plate, getting off the berth.

“Will I need to get off?” Ratchet asked behind the Prime, Nightblade readied the machine and wheeled it over. “Shouldn’t need to, I kind of reprogramed it to only notice his and the sparklings spark signatures. So, stay there, make him stay comfortable.” She smiled, pulling over the machine and proceeded to scan the heavily carrying mech. Finding nothing “out of the ordinary”, she then proceeded to take the equipment back to the med bay. Quickly returning but now with a few cubes of Energon, not forgetting to bring a Purple and Magenta one. Silently offering the purple and magenta ones first, knowing that as long as he got those down first the last Blue cube would be the easiest to down.

But one thing was for certain, he didn’t want any part of having an Energon cube. This troubled both the femme and the medic, they tried persuading him to just drink them but he would just sit silently, sending the feelings of guilt across the bond to Ratchet. Nightblade finally had enough of his denials for the nourishment that he and the sparklings needed. 

“I won’t allow you to not have your Energon, now drink up and I won’t say another word on the matter, Orion.” She stated clearly, a mild frustration in her optics but none showed through her voice. Placing the Magenta cube into one of his servos, she made him grasp onto it. “It’s not just the health of the sparklings I’m concerned with Prime: it’s yours as well.” Nightblade whispered only loud enough to be heard by Prime, with that, he downed the Magenta cube with a disgusted sigh, and then the Purple.

He felt disgusted with himself, not only for the fact that he refused Energon for his own health; he refused Energon for his sparklings. A strong pained jab of guilt took hold of his frame. His frame started to tremble, servos shacked, optics glazed over. Ratchet felt it all, not in full force but felt it all come across the bond like a crashing wave landing squarely on his helm.   
“Orion…” His breathing hitched, it’s like his processors were pulled from the recycle bin, because he found himself being even more demeaning to himself than before. He tried to move forward but again, since earlier wasn’t an indication of success, failed. He let loose a tired and irritated groan.

“Hey, I have a crazy idea. Want to get out of here? This room at least.” Nightblade walked over to the side of the berth, sitting down. Ratchet thought it would be a wonderful idea to just get Optimus out of their berthroom, it really was in a dangerous way, making Optimus grow delirious and depressive. 

A heavy sigh was released from the Prime, “Where were you thinking?” He grumbled, his irritation slowly faded as the servos of the medic reached around to rub the heaviest and least reachable places for the Prime and massaged it. But Night didn’t think that far ahead, she thought that he would get angry and roar. Or he would get upset and start to cry again, which made her spark ache knowing that she made her friend leak fluid.

“I don’t know. Why not go to the oil rooms? I haven’t heard the oil running since I gave you two the key.” She shrugged, still sitting on the edge of the berth. The Prime slowly nodded. “Want to help me?” He whispered, a heat rose in his face plates. She smiled, lifting up Prime over to the edge of the berth. Ratchet scooted over to the opposite side of his lover and heavily carrying mech. “I’ll -” Ratchet began but stopped, leaving Prime to almost question what he was going to say, but he didn’t.

“Hang tight, we’re going on a journey!” Night proclaimed, taking the Prime’s right arm around her neck. Then reached down for his legs, she hoisted him up. She had underestimated just how much heavier he had gotten as the time had progressed. The Prime whined in her hold as she began to walk, “I can walk.” Murmuring, she shook her helm, withholding her laugh. But as she walked, he relaxed in her hold, optics beginning to flicker, this making her smile a bit. “Rest, friend.” The door opened and closed behind the three, the Prime half nodding before completely falling in a tired recharge in her arms.

***

“Make sure it’s ready for… his checkup.” A scratchy voice called out, waking the Prime from his recharge. The light of the room made his optics strain, barely able to see the other side of the room. A deathly click came from the dimmest corner of the room. 

“Should he be in one piece or two?” A higher pitched voice came, laughing, a chill running down the Prime’s back struts. The sound of what could be a saw roaring to life brought him up from laying down. But one thing was for certain, his wrists and pedes were shackled to the berth.

“Optimus Prime! Glad you’ll be awake for the procedure.” A low growl rose from behind him, a voice all too familiar to him, over millions of years. “After all, it would be rather rude to do without having your… consent.” The Prime peered through the darkness best he could but his optics could only hold a dim glow. The glow of the red optics - now unsheathed - could easily pierce through the dark room. On the Nemesis. 

He tried to make a voice come out, anything at all, but what did come out was a choked static. This making the one hiding in the darkness laugh, taking a few steps forward. However, only enough to be seen in the dimness. 

“Oh, I would have thought that time would have healed you of your weakness.”

Megatron. He allowed him dentae to be bared in a gruesome smile of sorts. 

“But,” He took another step forward. “You seemed to have become weaker!” The Prime tried to shuffle away best he could, but with being shackled and obviously carrying, the movement was near impossible. He reached out for the Prime.

The sharped digits stroked the soft abdominal mesh that was extended, his optics never leaving the Prime’s. Resetting his vocalizes, his voice no longer stained with static, inquired with who he believed to be the runaway Warlord. “What do you want, Megatron?” The war lord’s malicious and baneful smile grew, more of his denta showed. 

“I want…” His voice quiet, too quiet. Jolts of fear rolled through the Prime. 

“The sparklings!” 

His claws dug down into the soft mesh, a roaring cry erupted from his mouth, vocalizers giving out. “You could have been mine!” He tore out two little frames, claws going through the fresh, soft sparkling metal. “But you choose that medic of yours, the lap-dog!” Only to have his cannon aimed at him helm, shot.

His optics onlined, servos immediately checking his large swell that decorated his abdomen. It was fine, untorn, untouched in that harmful matter. His venting uneven and strained, not even noticing that he was being held by the medic. But he did begin to notice that he wasn’t in his berthroom but rather in a giant tub - by human standards, which was filled with oil. The sides of his out-stretched abdomen spread wide, touching the walls of the tub. He lifted a servo, cupping the liquid only to pour it back out. 

“Rest easy,” That’s when Optimus finally figured out that he wasn’t alone. His EM field coming in contact with Ratchet’s. The Prime hadn’t realized how tense his frame was until gentle touches came from the medic, which ranged from his lower back struts to just anywhere the medic could reach. Optimus enjoyed it. But one thing lingered in the back of his processor, that dream cycle.

“What did you dream about? You thrashed a bit.” The Prime remain silent, but what he was feeling could be felt throughout the whole room: apprehension. 

::If you don’t want to talk about it right now, it can wait.:: He could feel the smile from the medic. Sighing, he relaxed further into his hold. Ratchet’s digits going in between plating on the back, stimulating the energy flow. Making him melt, Optimus enjoyed the little touches. He purred with each.

But he needed to tell Ratchet, he wanted it out of his helm, out of his processor. ::It… Involved Megatron… And a couple other… Things.:: The smooth touches continued, brushing the extremely sensitive sensors on under his shoulder plating. 

::It was nerve racking.:: He then felt a flutter at his round midsection, he couldn’t help but smile at the movement. ::It was him and he-:: His very thoughts froze, imagining over and over what he did. 

It terrified him.

::It’s alright. It was only a dream cycle.:: He reached around the Prime’s helm, sliding his servo along the sensitive cablings, in reassurance. 

::I am here.:: He cooed, with his words, the Prime was lulled back into a recharge.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS STORY IS NOT DEAD I SWEAR
> 
> ARE YOU HAPPY OPTIMUS'+GIRL?!   
> (I'm kidding but serious, how'd I do? It's been a while since I tried to do anything with slash-ish kind of stuff.)

“How you are feeling?” The white and red medic asked the large Prime, the very heavily carrying Prime. He groaned with the movement that he tried to have, not like he could go that far. But as soon as he got to a sitting position, he almost glared at the medic. “Heavy.” His tank then gave an undignified whine, long and very much drawn out. The Prime’s servo then landed on his belly, all in a fleeting attempt to calm the whining. When it did not quiet down, he only sighed. “Maybe a little hungry.” 

The medic and mate came up next to the Prime, both servos landing on the taut metal of the once flat abdominal plating. He felt hot and Ratchet’s digits were not, so the Prime flinched. Ratchet being the medic, wasn’t sure to think if that was out of pain or out of surprise from his cooler digits on the metal. “Orion?” He breathed out, pulling his servos away from the belly. Optimus cycled a breath and onlined his optics – when had he turned them off? “You’re cold.” He frowned at the medic. Ratchet pulled his servos to this face and huffed some warm air. And reapplied his servos to the large belly of the Prime, who was then forcefully kicked by the sparkling he carried. His own servo rubbing at the point where the little tyke kicked.

“This one has your kick…” The Prime groaned out, and out came another growl from his protesting – and not very empty – tanks. “I’ll go get you something to eat.” As soon as their sire spoke, the little ones kicked again, enough to make their carrier wince. Both of his servos coming to rest on the large, bulbous belly, full of ‘little’ sparklings. Optimus made small circles with his servos, in an almost fleeting hope that he could calm their little sparklets. (He didn’t think that they were small, all considering how he looked. But Ratchet loved how he looked, and if he said he liked the Prime with a ‘bit’ more girth, he’d still find him unbelievably gorgeous.) 

The “Thank you.” That he breathed out was all he could afford himself, because when he tried to roll over onto his side, he couldn’t catch his breath even when he tried. He gave a ‘humf’, just out of audial shot of his mate. 

Boy was he large, earlier into his carrying cycle (perhaps a month ago) he had overheard Smokescreen joke about him carrying around a moon. And that Earth should worry because he might disturb the gravitational pull. Optimus couldn’t respond like he would normally, because his first response was to stay in his berth room and look at his ever growing girth of a midsection. It’s not like he could run from the fact that he was several months into his carrying cycle. He just did not care for the disrespect he had earned himself from Smokescreen. 

(And let’s be honest, as soon as Nightblade and Ratchet found out what he was saying – Ratchet got to him first. Anything else need to be said about that?) It wasn’t like the old medic to get physical with any of the mecha, especially since he knew exactly how to hit them where it hurts. After he was done with Smokescreen, Nightblade certainly entertained the idea of taping him to the ceiling. (Don’t tell Smoky, but she also was entertaining the idea of having Bumblebee spark him. You can’t really tease if you’re in the same situation as someone else, now, can you?) (The author is laughing and is sweating nervously…)

Optimus hadn’t really noticed that Ratchet had come back until he caught a whiff of… whatever that was, but it did smell good! Almost on instant, his tanks gave an undignified growl of approval. “What is that?” His tanks continued to rumble. 

Ratchet looked at his gravid mate, oh he has gotten round. His hips have gotten wider, his torso and belly wider and bigger, and his thighs… oh how he’d gotten thicker there too. It was undeniable that Ratchet liked what he saw. (I mean, when did he not like the look of Optimus?)

“It’s something I made for you.” He cooed, coming up next to the berth. A large – in comparison to his servo – cake like thing. It didn’t look like much but it did smell amazing to Optimus, and along came another indignant growl from his tanks. 

“Are you going to tease me with it or feed me?” He’s certainly become greedier when comes to food over the carrying period. This coming from Optimus made Ratchet laugh and cut a corner off the cake. “It’s all for you, so finish it all up.” His mouth began to salivate, another rumble. And without much hesitation from either party, the first load of cake was loaded into the waiting mouth of the Prime.

And just like that, with a continuous steam of cake flowing from Ratchet to his mate, that one cake disappeared all too soon for the Prime. It was a good cake though; it was enough to quiet his insubordination of his tanks. But at the same time, he still felt hungry, these sparklings are making him crave weird things… 

And, the wonder of it all, he was starting to get hot. Hungry, heavy, and hot, a scary place for his mate to be in. Or was it? Ratchet was – secretly – enjoying feeding his gravid mate. Seeing him huff and rub that belly of his was almost enough to make his fans click on! But he needed to stay calm, treat his mate, give him what he wants – but if what he wants is a loving interface, Ratchet would most definitely oblige.

Optimus hummed with the last bit of cake that had been placed in his mouth, not too sweet and had a little twang to it. After swallowing that last piece, did he finally realize that he had finished off – completely – the cake Ratchet had made for him. He was sad at first because it was all gone, and now upset that he had gorged himself on the entire thing himself! There was a heat of embarrassment that not only washed over his face, but also a rolling burn in his tanks. Ratchet noticed the heat, not only physically but over their bond as well. 

His helm gave a worried tilt and came just a bit closer to the heavily carrying Prime. “Orion? Is there anything else I can do for you, love?” He didn’t answer, he just turned his helm away. His venting heavy, systems overheating. Ratchet came closer, placing his servos onto his chest plates, then to travel down to the abdomen. It was hot, not as in sexy (It was though, in Ratchet’s optics) but in temperature. Ratchet began to thumb the taut and overly hot mesh. “Can I get you something? Do something?”

Optimus didn’t want to say it, but he wanted to be fragged. There was too much heat, too much charge for him to be comfortable. He NEEDED to be fragged.  
He didn’t hold back when Ratchet stroked his paneling, all the while still strumming at the seams. Ratchet’s optics never leaving his own. It was feeling so good! The feather light touches were almost enough to drive him over the edge right then and there. Then, with no hesitation, his array was open, and dripping lubricant. The valve was clenching on nothing, needy.

No words were exchanged, Ratchet’s digits found the open and clenching valve, petting the outer folds. It was wet and warm with his own lubricant, two digits were pushed into the folds. That made the Prime squeal and moan softly, the sweetness of the touches… He wished this happened more often over his carrying cycle. The digits started to scissor their way through the valve, each time Ratchet moved he’d be clenching down upon him. It felt so good!

Ratchet added a third digit, now, pushing in and out of that pretty valve. His optics never leaving Optimus’, and he was glad for that. There was a look of bliss that colored the features of the Prime, a look he had not seen since when they both last interfaced. 

Ratchet hit a particularly sensitive node, Optimus’ hips – trying to – push towards his digits. After only a few minutes on gently preparing his valve did Ratchet move closer, and in between those thick thighed legs. His own spike was pressurized and tight against his paneling. Ratchet wanted to release his spike but he wanted Optimus to be taken care of first.  
Optimus wasn’t the only one who needed to be fragged this evening. He could feel Ratchet’s heat course through him, so, adding to the mounting discomfort. Ratchet started to scissor him, Optimus’ systems overloaded before he knew what hit him. His helm lolled back, mouth open, there was still a creeping heat in his systems. 

“I thought you would’ve been able to hold out.” Ratchet spoke with a smirk and a quirk to his brow. Optimus, still recovering from some of the heat and fluids leaving his body, only groaned. Ratchet took this as a ‘you should know better, you haven’t fragged me and I just need you to shut up and frag me now!’ Carriers, I swear!

He moved forwards in that pretty little, clenching valve of his gravid mate and continued to stretch him in slow matter. Every motion he’d done made Optimus keen and cry out for more. And that is exactly what Ratchet gave him. The slowness was starting to drive Ratchet up the wall, his spike was pressing uncomfortably against his modesty plating.

With a grateful click, Ratchet’s pressurized spike extended to touch his own abdomen, a dribble of his fluids peeking out through the slit on the top. Optimus was too lost again in the midst of overload, but now he was thoroughly ready to take Ratchet’s spike. There was nearly none-existent need for Ratchet to stroke himself, touching Optimus was more than a little arousing on its own.

Squeezing himself between those large thighs, he lifted one over his shoulder for better penetration range. Tickling the outer node, Optimus practically purred. Now placing in the tip, and slowly pushing in, scraping passed sensitive wall nodes, both keening at the pressure. The pace was getting to be too slow for the two, next gear it was. 

Coming in and out at a readily quickening pace, each time Ratchet drove in they saw stars. It was quick for Optimus to overload again, and drawing in Ratchet for his while the valve pulled and clenched down on that spike. Ratchet dove in one last time before hitting the back ceiling node for a final time, driving him to fill Optimus was his gush of transfluid. The two stayed like that a moment until Ratchet regained his composure and allowed his mate’s leg down from his shoulder.

Slumping his way down as carefully as he could all the while still dazed with afterglow, Ratchet could not help himself just stroke his mate’s side and belly. Least now neither would have to do anything for a while as far as working goes. 

Their systems were cooling down well, the haze of afterglow fading. Ratchet’s digits, however, never left his mate. Still he stroked over seams, played with the soft-taut mesh that held the sparklets. Oh, he could still barely believe was going to be a sire with Optimus. Neither could have wished for something better. 

Optimus laid motionless aside from the slow intakes of air to cool his systems. He’d fallen into recharge soon after Ratchet filled him with his own fluids. Optimus would need to rest, these two would be coming soon.


	3. Chapter 3

He had tried to sit up, but the now ending of growth for the sparklets made it exceptionally hard to move without help from some mecha. Optimus hasn’t been able to leave his berthroom without having Night carry him where he wanted to go. Or if she saw that it was best that he got out (which she did take him out unless he said otherwise), because he would get delirious and start to have depressive storms. All the mecha on ship did not want him to have that because that wouldn’t be good for him or the sparklets.

At the moment, he was alone and holding his heavily grown belly. Since he was coming so close to the end of his carrying cycle, he was wondering how it was going to be done. He hadn’t really wanted to talk about it with Night or Ratchet but he knew it was going to have be soon. The birth would be soon.

A rough few kicks to his internals sent him grunting and groaning. These two have already made his tanks leak, that was embarrassing enough on its own. And they kept on doing it! It made recharging nearly impossible, sometimes making a mess on the berth and it would wake Ratchet up to find a wetness beside him. Those nights (and some days) were the worst for Optimus.

“Be nice, won’t you?” He rubbed sorely at his belly, “You two have to be patient. You have a few more weeks in there.” He continued to rub, trying to soothe the little ones, only to be kicked again. Not long after, his systems kicked him back into recharge, however, it did not last that long. The presence of his mate and Night seemed to make sparklings grow excited and moved roughly inside him, drawing him out of recharge with an annoyed groan.

The two mecha were whispering to the side of the room, quiet enough that they wouldn’t have waked him normally. The two heard the groan from the Prime, and looked up to see the tired blue optics. “Hello Orion.” Night chimed quietly, both came over to the side of the berth. Ratchet softly laid his servos on Optimus, one on the belly and one on the cheek. His optics showed how tired he was still, but he still tried to stay awake at times like now. “Hello,” he wheezed, attempting to push himself to a semi-sitting position. Optimus’ servo landing on the Ratchet’s, the one on his belly.

Ratchet smiled sweetly, optics drawn with a happy glow. “Night thought we should talk about the birthing procedure,” he said while now squeezing Optimus’ servo gently. “Blunt, as always,” Optimus pointed his gaze at Nightblade. “You’re right, however,” he grunted as he rose his frame slowly to a near sitting position. “What’s first?”

Nightblade nodded and held her arms to her sides. “Firstly, you’re an ADM 16-12. Your gestation chamber is in your abdomen, as you may see,” she pointed with her optics. Ratchet’s traced his mates frame. “I could hardly miss it,” Optimus chuckled. “Yes, well, you’re valver. So the bitlits will come through that way,” her servos made mindless snaps. Optimus tilted his helm. “I don’t believe I’ve heard that phrase before,” his optics showed a quizzical gleam. She smiled slightly, “That’s not exactly what it’s called, however, that’s how I can remember it. The correct terminology is NKZ 19, also known as –“

“Nikoltz Factor 19,” Ratchet interrupted. She nodded to his interjection. “Which compiles contractions and the expansion of your valve to allow the bitlit a viable exit.” Her purple optics blinked, searching for Optimus’ reaction to the information. He sat there and thought. Oh sweet Primus, why… “It is one of the more common types for emergence protocols. The longest part would have to be the expansion of your valve,” she said while shrugging, she knew that part personally.

Optimus thought some more, “Couldn’t Ratchet, uh, stretch me? Wouldn’t that save some time?” He was already afraid of what was going to happen. And for a first-time carrier, it’s completely understood as to why. His body would be doing things that he had never felt or had to have done before! Nightblade, she shook her helm, “If it were that simple, there would be sparklets around here. No, your body has to do it on its own time,” a frown found its way onto Optimus’ face. “However, it may be needed to help start up the protocols,” Night added.

Ratchet turned to Night. “How will we know that the protocols have been initiated?” Ratchet asked what Optimus was beginning to think to himself. Night tapped his thigh with a thoughtful digit. “You’d sense it in your field. It would become emotionally charged, every bout would get more and more targeted,” her optics blinked away the dimness that showed thought, going through deeper memory banks. “Targeted?”

“The Sire is the target. Sorry Ratchet, you’re doomed,” Night coughed, hiding the laugh she was trying to hold. He sneered. “Why me?” Her laughter died down, optics drawn tight in a line. “You sparked him, you did this, and your prize is hoping he doesn’t fry your circuits. Really, this is all on you,” she tried to look at him grimly but her optics glowed with amusement. She patted his shoulder, “Good luck, nice knowing ya.”

“Night!” Ratchet pushed her away, “You can’t be serious,” he rumbled a mumble. Night rolled her optics, lamely crossing her arms across her chassis. “It is a possibility… I know what I managed to do to Sky,” optics were down cast.

Her mate was thought to have been murdered by Megatron as a statement to those who did not bow to his will. (Which is not entirely true, Starscream, one of their creations was the real one behind the murder. He merely suggested that Megatron use civilians and other senators as a method to get the attention of others who could fight for their cause.) Megatron decided with Starscream that he would torment those they could get a hold of, usually resulting in their deaths. Starscream’s personal favorite was going for the spark. He would try to stab at the chamber when Night was beginning to teach him how to fight. Night did not think too much of it, everyone has their own style, though now she wishes she had. She blamed herself for Sky’s death.

Optimus gave her a sympathetic look; he was with her that day that she saw what was left of Sky’s frame. “I trust your judgement, Night,” Optimus tried to sound jovial, though he hardly believed she would follow with his actions, Ratchet noticed this tactic. He followed along. “You’ve done this more than I have,” Ratchet spoke with a soothing smile. “Yes, helping over 5,300 carriers birth over 6,500 different sparklets of different carrying types. Yes, perhaps you are right,” she smirked. Ratchet’s optics seemed to nearly bulge out of his head they grew so wide. “Kaon had bigger families. Lots of little fraggers, lots of big fraggers, too,” her optics showed the silent laughter that she held.

Kaon, one of the larger city-states was a poor one. Fucking was virtually the only thing that could be done that would not get you arrested. Usually. Some mecha still managed to find the hard side of the law, sometimes costing their lives. It usually came down to someone sleeping with someone’s gladiator and not paying their dues to the owner. What got them in trouble the most is when the gladiator became sparked, because every once in awhile, one would get bonded and that would leave them vulnerable and unable to fight. In other words, a wasted investment. That’s all they were seen as: property. Nightblade knew this well with her first two owners.

The two nodded. “Okay, you can cut the variables. You’ve done this before, many times,” Optimus poked, “Then you must have some suggestions on the matter.” Night leaned against the wall, optics now drawn tight in thought. “Yes, however, you’ve done all that can really be done before the protocols kick in,” she looked down at her arm a moment. “You’ve got at most two weeks before the protocols will initiate on their own.”

She allowed the number to seep in. Optimus wasn’t sure whether or not to be grateful or apprehensive now at the prospect. But he can’t turn back now, it’s difficult enough going through time the normal way, going back wouldn’t stop any of this from happening. He’d only manage to create a paradox that would land him in a very confused state of mind for his past self. (Plus, Optimus wouldn’t ever turn down a good frag from Ratchet. So either way, he’d still end up gravid with sparklings.)

“So it’s just a waiting game until the protocols are initiated?” Ratchet asked, casting a curious look to his mate and back to Night. She nodded. Night then snapped her digits together. “However, until then, do as you please. Eat or frag as the time draws to a close,” her optics were draw close, a smirk on her faceplates grew within moments.

Ratchet’s optics seemed to bulge, Optimus snickered. “I’m sure we can do that, Night,” Optimus cooed to Night. He was enjoying the shocked look and feeling from the bond that Ratchet gave off at Nightblade’s bluntness. “Can’t we,” Optimus quietly teased. He knew that Ratchet did not like to talk about interfacing outside of the berthroom and he revelled it. (Albeit now it was much quieter than prior, Optimus now didn’t really make any kind of loud rousing. That would come soon.) Ratchet turned to him with a pink expression, stammering a quick and quiet reply of “Yes, o’course.” 

Night snerked, “I’ll leave you two be then. Enjoy your quiet time while it still lasts, Comm if you need me,” she waved before the door opened up, sounding a little squeaky now that the tracks have gathered some dirt and grit from here and there. “For the time being, I’m thinking of playing a little game with the others. Keep them busy for the time being.” The door closed behind her, leaving the two. Alone.

“We should do what was advised,” Optimus practically purred, a very recognisable click. Ratchet knew the sound all too well, quite a delightful sound. His sight saw the glowing blue outer folds, puffed and very inviting. Ratchet’s movements turned to liquid as he stroked over and without question, between those legs of his mate and Prime. Oh, this was his favorite place to be. 

Optimus pushed his legs further apart, light pink liquid oozed out onto the berth. Ratchet took that and wiggled his way between those thighs, wedging and stroking ever so slightly against the sensitive mesh. The rubbery folds that lined that pretty little valve seemed to glow a faint red. Oh, he’s absolutely delicious! Blunt digits circled around, two poking in and the others massaging the outer nodes. 

Ratchet’s touches were light as his other servo touched every seam in his reach. He wanted him, but apparently Optimus changed his mind about position. With the most movement made over the carrying cycle, he scooted back and flipped Rachet onto his back. Ratchet gasped from surprise, a rather good surprise to be frank. 

“I want to spike you,” from Optimus nearly made Ratchet faint. This was his favorite mood for Optimus to be in, randy. And boy was he! Without hesitation, he spread Ratchet’s legs wide, making his hip joints pop and hiss. It’s been awhile you know, since he’d been spiked, he can’t complain now. 

There was a certain fire in Optimus’ digits, moving between the rubber lips of his valve, oh he was determined. The slickening folds were easily stimulated, making Ratchet keen. Optimus’ thumb stroked around the outer folds, catching the dark pink liquid. 

The ministrations were painfully slow, even for the Prime. Ratchet heard the guttural sound, a rolling heavy engine sound, that nearly sent him over with sensory data alone! Optimus pumped a few more times into that slick valve and moved his girth to more comfortably accommodate himself, moving one of Ratchet’s legs out of the way and onto his shoulder, he readied himself. His spike was very much ready to punch through Ratchet, but even now, he wanted to tease Ratchet just a little. 

He barely edged the tip inside the warmth, Ratchet was weak to him and keened, scrapping his servos against his windshields. “Please slagger!” That made Optimus smirk, slowly pushing his way inside, teasing the outer node with a free digit all the while stroking his spike longside. With a low growl, and tentative stroke at Ratchet’s own spike, he smirked “Of course.”

They had barely started really and Optimus’ charge was nearing its climax, Ratchet wasn’t too far behind. They were sorely out of practice. He thrusted deeper, fans clicking up a setting, gaining speed with his ministrations on his mate. Each brought both closer to overload, each tug Ratchet gave with his valve pulled Optimus with him. Up until the cieling node was struck, to which was more than enough to send Ratchet tumbling over the edge with a wail, pulling Optimus with him with his own cries.

His legs had gone weak, with his girth still seated inside, he laid on his side with Ratchet’s leg dangling over his hip. The little ones apparently did not care for the extra movement from their carrier, and sounded their disapproval. One kick made him freeze, optics glazed over.

Something that Ratchet was not anticipating was for his EM field to smashed with Optimus’. Oh no, he’s the target. “Optimus-” he was bombarded again with a strong, stabbing energy. “Orion!”

“It’s starting Ratchet,” he said through close jawed. “Call..” he couldn’t finish, his mind was a little preoccupied at the moment. His spike retracted from the used valve, Ratchet removed his leg, swinging himself off the berth. Stumbling with another jolt of energy from Optimus’ field.

.: NIGHTBLADE! :.

.: I’m already heading your way. :.

.: What do I do? :. Ratchet yelled over the comm, his breathing took a worried turn. Optimus turned and groaned, optics a burning white, another flash of energy stabbing through Ratchet’s field. .: Just stay calm. That’s all you can do at the moment. :. 

.: Not- :. More energy flashed through Optimus’ field, stronger this time. .: Helping! :. After that, Nightblade had the door sliding open. Arcee was with her too, holding towels. “Drop them there. He’s not going to be moving anytime soon,” she said pointedly with her optics. Arcee’s optics were wide but kept moving, she wasn’t used to seeing Optimus in such a… she didn’t want to think fragile but she couldn’t come up with anything thing to describe his situation. Or Ratchet’s for the matter, he looked a little worse for wear and it only just begun. 

Nightblade only had her optics pointed at Arcee when she spoke. “Go tell the others to stay away from here. I’ll Comm you if there’s anything I need.” She didn’t have to say anything twice to Arcee, who had immediately scurried out of the room. Who would blame her? Birthing isn’t exactly fun to be apart of. Very soon would the pair be able to hold their sparklings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL It's been a while for this one... I swear to the lord and creator (Primus) that I will finish this. I've just had a bad writing prob for a while... Love me senpai

**Author's Note:**

> YO! Hey. Yup, another slagging fic.... Good luck to me... maybe I'll finish it.  
> Well... Let me know how you like it! I enjoy the what you all have to say.


End file.
